


Coming Post-Haste

by SuperImposed



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Consentacles, Cunnilingus, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ring Transformation Misuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:17:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/SuperImposed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's difficult to remove a ring when you only have the one hand...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Post-Haste

The Parcel Mistress shifted uneasily as she finished the tale. Her Queen merely nodded, looking contemplative.

 

“Yes…. I believe acceding to the Agent’s request will be the best option.”

 

The courier couldn’t hold back her surprised look, making the Queen chuckle. “There are a few other variables in play, my dear.” She held her single hand up, ring catching the light. “But… oh my, I am in a spot of trouble. However am I to remove this?” Her sable eyes flicked down, locking onto the Mistress’s. “Would you assist me?”

 

“O-Of course, your Majesty.” The messenger shifted closer, and realized just how tall the throne was. “Um...”

 

“Don’t be shy, dear, climb on up.”

 

Well, it was the Queen’s order… who was she to question her Wise and Kind Sovereign?

 

It was only after she heaved her lanky frame onto the throne that she caught the coy smile on the Queen’s face. “Your Maje-eep!” she squeaked, as the ruler reached down and hooked her arm around the Mistress’s back, pulling her close.

 

“Yes, my Parcel Mistress?”

 

“I...” The courier blinked, running a gray tongue over her teeth. The monarch’s face was so close…

 

They both leaned in.

 

The Queen hummed pleasantly as the Mistress’s mouth pressed to hers; she reached up to cradle the Prospitan’s smooth head with her single hand. Unseen by the loyal subject, something else reached out, inspiring a squeak as each tip slipped under her bright skirt.

 

She pulled away from the kiss to stare down at the pale tentacles, shuddering as one ran between her legs again. “Should I stop?” The messenger’s gaze snapped back to her Queen, who regarded her with half-lidded eyes and faint smile.

 

The Parcel Mistress shook her head so rapidly she thought it might fall off, and the White Queen smiled fully, taking her subject’s chin in hand and leaning in once more. “Very good.”

 

The Queen’s transformation included a set of needle-thin fangs. It was a little unnerving, and the Mistress was careful about where exactly her tongue was going.

 

Meanwhile, the monarch’s spare appendages were going to work on the courier’s nether regions, eliciting squeaks as the smooth tendrils teased her clit and prodded lightly against her holes. One lazily traced the tight ring of her anus, while the other slid smoothly between her nether lips The increasingly damp quasi-carapaced tentacle pressed and flowed rhythmically against her clit, inspiring the messenger to louder and louder proclamations of her Queen’s prodigious skill.

 

The kiss turned open-mouthed and sloppy, the Parcel Mistress moaning into it as her leader smiled. The Queen raked her hand over the courier’s slender torso and sleek thighs, allowing herself a small chuckle as the Prospitan shuddered and slumped against her.

 

“Y… Your Majesty...”

 

The Queen took the Mistress’s chin (now damp and slack) in hand once more, smile ever benevolent. “I’ve one more task for you, my faithful Mistress,” she purr, tendrils helping slide her subject back to the base of the throne. Her legs uncross, and not only does the Prospitan need no further nudging, she doesn’t even hesitate, all but throwing herself face-first into the ruler’s lap.

 

The Queen chuckles once more before the courier gets to work, and oh are her lovely subjects ever so diligent! Inexpertise is more than made up for with enthusiasm, and seeing that lovely rump, framed with rumpled skirts… she hardly has to think before the tentacles slither down once more.

 

The messenger begins to shout and moan into her leader’s nethers, pressing her face in all the harder as the feelers first tease, and then penetrate her entrance. Both glide nigh-effortlessly into the subject’s slick and throbbing cunt, spiralling around each other as they slid ever farther.

 

The ruler slowed the pace, lest she reduce her loyal subject to so much blithering carapace before the Queen’s own need was seen to. Not that it would take long, as the messenger's whimpers and cries were, not to put too fine a point on it, incredibly arousing.

 

Between laps of sweet gray tongue and strokes of slim fingers, the Mistress was panting heavily, mostly things like “please” and “deeper” when she could actually form words. The Queen palmed the Prospitan’s smooth head, bucking her hips forward now to meet the subject’s attentions, and with one particularly high keen from the smaller carapace, climaxed.

 

She curled slim legs around the Mistress, pulling her closer as she rode the tremors of her release. Almost lazily, she rippled the tendrils deep within the courier, spreading and flexing against hot inner walls, and-

 

The Parcel Mistress came again, crying out roughly as she clamped almost painfully onto the tentacles. The Queen curled the feelers gently as she withdrew them, both carapaces abetting the last surges of the other’s climax.

 

When both had recovered some breath, the Queen reached down, ring and crown in hand. “You have done well, my dear.” Mournfully, she added, “I fear the rest of your task will not be so… simple. But I have every confidence in you.”

 

As the Parcel Mistress staggered, bemused and wobbly, out of the throne room, she caught the Queen’s final words:

 

“Give the King my best.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Came to me suddenly. Quite cute, I think. No, I will probably not write a segment with the King myself.


End file.
